


Appreciation

by Merit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blowjobs, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Hotel Sex, M/M, Neck Kissing, Orgasm Denial, Shower Sex, Sleepy Kisses, Sleepy Sex, Victor talks to his dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/pseuds/Merit
Summary: After the Cup of China free skate Yuuri was wrecked.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [autoeuphoric (FreezingRayne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingRayne/gifts).



Yuuri was wrecked after the free skate.

He had remained upright through endless photos, smiling between next to Phichit and Chris, looking so overwhelmed he could almost fall asleep on the ice. Chris looked at Victor across the ice, amusement heavy in every gesture as he blew Victor a kiss and snuggled up to Phichit. You could be here, Chris seemed to be saying with every movement, if you hadn't _ruined everything_ by leaving skating.

Victor ignored him with a smile as he embraced Yuuri, the crowd roaring. Anything whispered in Yuuri's ear lost, his lips pressed against the curve of Yuuri's ear. But Yuuri's fingers, wrapped around his wrist, sliding his sleeve up so he could press skin against skin. Victor's heartbeat jumped and Yuuri would have felt it. Victor didn't need to say anything.

Then they were dragged off to the long interviews – switching between Japanese, English and saying a few words in Mandarin.

“This is quite the comeback.”

Yuuri nodded. “I have something to prove now,” their shoulders were touching, “I wanted to show my love to the whole world.”

“What is it like having the famed Victor Nikiforov as your coach?”

“All my dreams came true,” Yuuri breathed and Victor almost closed his eyes then.

“How does it feel to be one step closer to winning the gold?”

“There's still the Rostelecom Cup,” Yuuri said, looking down at the table in front of him. He looked up, a determined gaze looking over the crowd of reporters. He still wasn't wearing his glasses, they were tucked away in Victor's pocket, handed over earlier for safe keeping, and the crowd must appear indistinct. But Victor could see the impact Yuuri had on them.

All eyes were on Yuuri. Victor almost felt invisible.

Under the table, their hands found each others. Yuuri squeezed his hand, fingernails leaving little half moons on his skin. Victor squeezed back, before settling their hands on Yuuri's knee. He was nervously tapping something offbeat, but his knee slowed and then stopped the longer their clasped hands rested on his knee.

Yuuri stuttered his way through the rest of the questions, sliding deeper into his chair as the interviews dragged on. But he hadn't won the Cup of China and soon most had left to crowd around Phichit, glowing and smiling, as his every jump and spin was analyzed around him.

After, the fans surged around him.

“It was spectacular,” said one blushing girl, her gaze shooting between Yuuri and Victor, looking like she begging to ask a million questions. Victor smiled and wrapped an arm around Yuuri. Yuuri started, blushing and stammering, and the fans around them started screaming.

“I can't wait to see you at the Rostelecom Cub!” She yelled as Victor ushered Yuuri out of the rink.

Neither could Victor.

The thought of Yuuri landing _his_ quad flip, oh, it was glorious.

It validated every hope and dream Victor had about coaching Yuuri.

And the kiss, well, that validated every personal hope and dream.

The journey back to their hotel was mostly quiet, the shadows under Yuuri's eyes becoming deeper, his yawning not even disguised by a hand. Yuuri's shoulders were slumped, but he was shaking slightly. As they waited for the elevator, the hotel mercifully dead at this hour, Yuuri's eyelids fluttered shut and he leaned against the wall. Exhaustion was rent in every line of his body. When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Victor had to usher Yuuri inside, hand on his elbow, arm wrapped around his waist. Yuuri sagged into his touch, neck rolling. He smiled up at Victor, licking his lips.

They were sharing a room – Victor had never planned anything else – and he had their keycard. He slid it in the reader, watching Yuuri carefully, light flashing green. The doorknob required a slight push. Yuuri staggered past him, only pausing briefly to take off his shoes, and collapsed on the bed, breathing out deeply. Victor flicked the lights on, the air conditioning coming to life and humming as he placed the keycard in the slot.

The room was awful. Victor had stayed in his share of terrible hotels over the years but this one was shockingly ugly. And Yuuri didn't have the largesse of team Russia, top male Japanese figure skater or not. He shrugged of his coat, his gloves and gently placed his coat over the back of a chair. Yuuri was trembling on the bed, dark hair shadowing his face.

Victor padded over quietly to the bed, looking down at Yuuri. He'd be a wreck if he didn't get some sleep soon and the Rostelecom Cup wasn't that far away. Every moment was precious when the next competition could be your last. Victor reached out, tracing the translucent shell of Yuuri's ear. When he pulled back, Yuuri's fingers were clenched around the sheets, knuckles white, mouth in a tight line, shoulders pulled up.

He couldn't help feel that Yuuri needed something _more_ before he could relax.

He lay down next to Yuuri, bodies not even grazing each other, a miracle in these tiny beds. Yuuri's was breathing in short bursts. The air conditioning hummed louder.

Their fingertips were touching.

Yuuri and Victor were laying next to each other, still full dressed, Yuuri's body practically hidden from him. Not touching, not really, except for the very tips of their fingers. Yuuri's fingers were cold. He hadn't been wearing gloves at the rink.

Yuuri was shaking.

A faint tremor that shivered down him and into Victor. After moment, that stretched out into an infinity as Victor wondered how to best approach this, everything was still so new and he didn't want to make Yuuri cry _again_. He reached out, palm caressing Yuuri's hand, as he took a hold of Yuuri's hand and pressed it against his heart. Yuuri jerked, gasping.

“Victor?” He asked. Victor turned. Yuuri wasn't wearing his glasses and so Victor could clearly see the dark shadows underneath his eyes. Yuuri was wretchedly tired. But the adrenalin would still be coursing through his body even though the competition was over.

“I know what it is like, after a competition,” Victor said, thumb circling a nonsense pattern against Yuuri's skin, Yuuri's pupils dilating, his breathing quickening. He leaned closer so they were sharing breaths. “Heartbeat racing, every muscle tense, still preparing for the next jump.”

Yuuri's eyes were still red. Being this close to Yuuri, Victor felt a warm flush envelop his body, something stirring in his stomach, every part of his body touching Yuuri's lighting up with a thousand fires that Victor had no hope of putting out. If he even wanted to.

“I know you're tired, Yuuri,” Victor said softly. “You won't have to do a thing.”

“I want,” Yuuri started, before yawning. He blushed, looking angry at himself. It was adorable, Victor though, smiling fondly at Yuuri.

“Let me do this for you,” he murmured, brushing Yuuri's hair out of his eyes. Yuuri's eyes widened.

“This is,” Yuuri said, a high flush on his cheeks. The edge of his jacket was pushed up and Victor could see a sliver of flesh. It was enough for Victor to swallow, mouth suddenly dry. He'd seen more, much more, almost a year ago when Yuuri had stripped down to his boxer briefs and gyrated against him. But Yuuri had been drunk and Victor. Victor was never that indiscreet, the weight of the skating world watching his every move. Yuuri hadn't lain next to him, mouth wet, skin supple, every part of him straining to meet Victor.

“I know you didn't sleep well last night,” Victor said, “And I didn't help earlier.” He pressed a kiss against the tender skin against Yuuri's palm, soft and sweet, the moment stretching out, before Yuuri relaxed. Yuuri closed his eyes, eyelashes smudges against the lighter shadows on his face and he was so shockingly beautiful. Victor edged closer, forehead pressed against Yuuri's, knees falling against each other.

“Okay,” Yuuri said, running his hand through Victor's hair. Victor preened up into his touch, smiling at Yuuri. Yuuri's hand tensed in his hair, once, hair pulled back and Victor jerked forward, the air pushed out of him. “But just tonight. Tomorrow I want,” Yuuri pulled Victor's hair, ever so lightly and Victor went still, toes curling in his socks. “Tomorrow I want to pleasure you, too.”

“It's a promise,” Victor said, stretching up and kissing Yuuri. Yuuri melted into his touch, hands clutching his upper arms, fingers running over muscles there. Victor pulled back, their lips parting with a soft, indistinct sound. He smiled down at Yuuri. “Now if I remember the showers at most rinks correctly, they're awful. Cramped and grey and if you get hot water, you thank the stars,” Victor said, running a finger down Yuuri's jaw, tilting his chin up so it exposed the long line of his neck. “Is that still correct?”

“Y-yes,” Yuuri said.

“Then you need a proper shower,” Victor said, sitting up and pulling Yuuri up with him. He's stiff, shoulders too high and Victor wanted to do so many thing to him. He kissed Yuuri's jaw, warm and open mouthed. “I want to do so many things to you, Yuuri,” and Yuuri's trembling and Victor pulled back, smiling. He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Then he went to his knees, hotel carpet rough through his trousers, his hands running up and down Yuuri's calves. He was tense. Finally he settled his palms on Yuuri's ankles, massaging at the stiff muscles there.

Yuuri breathed out deeply.

His socks came off easily; one those cotton blends that Victor hadn't worn in years, he was going to get something for Yuuri that would cradle his feet, soft as a feather. Yuuri's feet were – Victor was, Victor had been a professional skater. He knew what what skating did to your feet. But he felt his stomach drop, looking at Yuuri's feet, in way it never had looking at his own feet. There was a string of dark bruises along his left foot, a dark red mark on his right.

Victor cradled Yuuri's foot, running a finger along the arch, sweeping around the bruises.

“Oh Yuuri,” Victor breathed, fingers light as he traced around Yuuri's injuries. Yuuri's breath hitched and Victor looked up quickly, hands withdrawn, “I didn't -”

“You didn't,” Yuuri said, shifting in his seat. He was bent forward, hands on his knees. “You didn't hurt me.” Victor couldn't see Yuuri's eyes, hair shadowing them, but Yuuri was biting his lip. Pink and reddening as Victor watched. “You're so close,” Yuuri said, moving again. Victor couldn't but help but be drawn to the V of his legs, joggers not hiding anything, the steadily growing bulge.

Victor licked his lips and Yuuri shuddered, knees swinging together.

“Don't,” Victor murmured, “Please,” he said, placing his hands on Yuuri's knees. Yuuri looked up, their eyes met and then after a long moment, Yuuri nodded.

“Because you've been so good,” Yuuri said softly, running along Victor's jawline, slowly, down his neck, tilting his head back.

Victor closed his eyes, lips parting. Yuuri cupped his face, thumb on his lower lip, opening his mouth further. He inserted a finger in Victor's mouth and instantly Victor started sucking it, tongue swirling around the digit. He wanted more, for Yuuri to thrust every finger into his mouth, hand fucking him until his lips were red and oh Victor wanted something bigger after that. Yuuri chuckled and removed his finger, Victor's mouth gaping, missing Yuuri's touch already. “You can touch me,” Yuuri said and it sounded like a blessing.

He took a moment, breathing heavily, his erection obvious through his trousers. And Yuuri watched him, eyes dark.

“Go on,” Yuuri murmured and every part of Victor wanted to obey.

Victor started slowly spreading Yuuri's knees, the edges of the bed only stopping him from guiding Yuuri into a full split. But there Yuuri was, legs spread, on display and it was all for him. His gaze followed the long line of Yuuri's thighs, muscles jutting out. His cock was still swelling underneath the black fabric and when Victor breathed in deeply he could smell Yuuri, Yuuri's arousal on the air.

He rocked back on his heels. Awestruck at what Yuuri was offering. He was breathing heavily, eyelids hooded, as he traced the line of Yuuri's legs. Yuuri's thighs were shaking underneath his touch, though Victor was barely touching him, the muscles growing tenser as he reached the junction between Yuuri's thighs and cock.

Then Victor rushed to his feet. Hadn't he wanted to take care of Yuuri?

He pulled Yuuri to his feet, pressing a dozen, a hundred kisses along Yuuri's jawline, along the fragile curve of his ear. His hands were busy as well, unzipping Yuuri's jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. Yuuri was only wearing a thin t-shirt underneath, sheer enough that Victor could see his dusky nipples popping through the fabric. Victor moaned, raw and open, into Yuuri's neck. Yuuri arched up into his touch and it was all happening so fast. Victor's vision narrowing down to a point of light that was dominated by Yuuri.

“I mentioned a shower,” Victor said, through the haze of lust. Yuuri blinked up at him.

“Oh?” He said, surprise flickering across his face before it faded and a cheeky grin emerged.

“Yes,” Victor said resolutely, closing his eyes, and clenching his trouser's, sharp nails digging into his thighs.

“Open your eyes, Victor,” Yuuri said, one finger under his chin. Victor's eyes snapped open.

With one quick gesture, Yuuri shrugged off his t shirt, fling it over his head. His joggers hung low on his hips, exposing the sharp lines of his hips.

“And join me,” Yuuri said, walking into the bathroom, fingers hooked around the elastic of his joggers, the curve of his ass becoming visible as he disappeared. The shower started and Victor swallowed a moan, biting hard on his lip. His hand went to his dick and he stroked it once, twice quickly before drawing his hand away.

He had to wait.

Somehow.

Victor undressed with as much dignity as possible, his clothes tossed over the edge of the other side of the bed, his erection making things difficult for him as usual. His dick hung in the air, pink, the tip wet. He groaned, running a hand through his hair, hand jittering. Yuuri had barely touched him and he was already this close. Victor steeled himself, giving his cock an imperious glance.

“Behave yourself,” he said firmly and walked into the bathroom.

Yuuri must have turned the water up hot. The glass panels of the shower were already fogged. Yuuri's body almost an illusion, a dream through the glass.

He slid back the door and Yuuri didn't move, open mouthed under the steady flow of the water, chest already stained pink. There's a darkening bruise covering one hip – Yuuri hitting the ice flashing through Victor's eyes – and Yuuri was stretched up into the heat, body arched.

“Yuuri,” he said softly and Yuuri opened his eyes slowly, like the sun rising over the surf. Yuuri smiled, warm and open, and Victor felt himself falling a thousand times more.

“You came,” Yuuri said, looking down Victor's body. Victor didn't think the flush in Yuuri's cheeks was _just_ from the hot water.

“For you?” Victor said, moving into the shower, shoulders brushing against the glass. “Always.”

Yuuri shuddered, turning his face away.

“No one says those things,” Yuuri said.

“I do,” Victor said, leaning in. This close he could see tiny droplets in Yuuri's eyelashes. Then he kissed Yuuri, warm and gentle and slow, opening him up.

The shower stall was small but Victor had worked with worse. And wasn't he grateful now that he had kept up with his stretches and forms even after leaving skating?

The water was hot on his back as he kissed Yuuri against the shower wall. Yuuri hissed, arching up into Victor, when his skin hit the cool tile. Their hips met, dicks sliding against each other. Yuuri slid a thigh between Victor's legs, slick under the torrent of water. Victor pressed soothing kisses on Yuuri's mouth, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, cherishing every part of him, as he rode Yuuri's leg.

“Victor,” Yuuri murmured, blinking through the water, then moaned as Victor kissed his way down Yuuri's neck. His hands trailed down Yuuri's sides, quick touches, feeling muscle quiver and jump under his touch. He bit gently at the junction between Yuuri's neck and shoulder and Yuuri practically liquified underneath his hands.

“You like that,” Victor whispered open mouth against Yuuri's skin. There was a pink mark where he had bit and he lapped at it, begging forgiveness.

“Yeah,” Yuuri sighed, his hand finding Victor's head, fingers entwined around Victor's hair. He pulled and Victor keened, toes curling against tile, water rushing around their ankles. “Do it again.”

And so Victor couldn't help by obey. He breathed against Yuuri's neck, breath mixing with the humid air, and then gently ran his teeth down the column of Yuuri's neck. Soon Yuuri was a semi incoherent figure against the tile, shaking against Victor.

He ran a hand down Yuuri's hip, circling the skin there, skirting the bruise. Yuuri's ass was cold from the tile and when Victor squeezed, he bucked into Victor's thigh, his cock sliding against the slick flesh. Again he thrust, sighing deeply, knees buckling until Victor was supporting half of his weight.

“Do you think you can last a little longer?” Victor murmured into Yuuri's ear, brushing away hair, delighting in the display of emotions, feelings flickering across Yuuri's face. “I want to make this special for you.”

For several seconds the only thing Victor could hear was the heavy sound of Yuuri breathing and the steady gush of the water.

“Yeah,” Yuuri murmured, squeezing his eyes shut, hands clenched against the tiles, knuckles white.

Victor pulled him in for a long kiss.

Then he sank to his knees, ignoring the tile, and reveled in the display in front of him.

Not every skater shaved or waxed – Victor remembered some very interesting locker rooms where a full spectrum had been on exhibit – but. Most did. Victor always did, wanting the perfect line under his costumes, nothing to distract from a perfect score. And Yuuri did, as well.

The night before the short program, Yuuri had retreated the bathroom, an all too familiar bag in his hands, blushing slightly. He had mumbled something while Victor had froze on the bed.

And Victor had waited, alone, phone forgotten on the bed next to him. He had imagined Yuuri stripping, vivid flashbacks providing clues on how explicit Yuuri could get. He could almost hear his clothes dropping to the floor, the shower starting. He would exfoliate first, Victor thought, spreading his own legs. Yuuri would rub his legs, bent over, ass on display, everything wet and slick. Victor keened softly, careful not be heard over the sound of the shower. Then Yuuri would apply the foam to his legs, his balls – Victor thrust into the air, sighing.

When the shower stopped, the air was heavy with the smell of Victor, no windows this high up. Yuuri had started, looking over at Victor.

Victor's dick had twitched.

His dick hung heavy between his thighs now, with Yuuri hot and wet and naked in front of him. Yuuri's cock was pointing high, water raining down on it. He was smooth, Victor noted, lightly tracing patterns up Yuuri's calves, his thighs. And responsive, he noted, peering up at Yuuri through his eyelashes. He was jerking into Victor's touch, biting his lip, cock thrust closer to Victor's mouth.

The water was beading on his skin and when Victor first wrapped his mouth on Yuuri's cock, he only tasted water. But then Yuuri moaned, something desperate, hips jerking and suddenly Victor could taste Yuuri in the most intimate of ways. He hummed happily, one hand splayed on Yuuri's hip, the other tracing a maddeningly pattern on Yuuri's thigh.

He went deeper, sucking, running his tongue up and down the length of Yuuri's cock, feeling every minute thrust that Yuuri's made. Then he pulled back, gaze going up.

Yuuri was flushed, from the water, from his exertions. Mouth open, eyes closed. One hand pressed against his forehead, back arched perfectly. Victor felt his jaw drop just watching such beauty.

“Please,” Yuuri said, panting heavily before biting his lip, “Don't stop,” he said firmer, fingers under Victor's chin. Victor nuzzled Yuuri's hand, pressing a warm, open mouthed kiss against the skin.

And Victor couldn't refuse a request like that could he?

Yuuri was close, every time Victor took him deeper into his mouth, he could feel Yuuri's body tensing, cock harder, leaking precome into his mouth. Victor pulled back and ran his mouth down Yuuri's cock. Victor grasped Yuuri's cock with one hand, pumping him twice, twisting the most delicious of sounds out of Yuuri.

With his other hand he gently cupped Yuuri's balls, drawing a line down Yuuri's body, Yuuri's spine stretching further, until Victor was circling Yuuri's hole.

“You want this also?” Victor said against Yuuri's thigh. Yuuri made a few high pitched gulping sounds.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Yuuri said, hitching his hips up so even more of him was on display. Victor placed one kiss there, tongue teasing Yuuri.

Yuuri gasped, fine tremors in his thighs, muscles standing out in perfectly like an exquisitely carved statue, and then sighed.

“Use your fingers,” he said, the words sounding like they were ripped from him, “Please, please use your fingers.”

Victor took Yuuri in his mouth again when he inserted a finger inside of Yuuri, the other hand at the base of Yuuri's cock, stroking him in time with his mouth.

Victor's fingers met his mouth as he drove Yuuri over the edge. Yuuri's hips jerked, driving his cock deeper into Victor's mouth. The come was hot on Victor's mouth and without a second thought, he swallowed, savoring the taste on his tongue.

He was still gently stroking Yuuri's cock, one finger still inside him, pressing delicate strokes against Yuuri's prostrate. Yuuri was jerking into his touch, emitting soft moans.

“Enough,” Yuuri said, voice breaking. “Oh Victor,” he murmured, eyes opening. Victor surged to his feet, arms circling Yuuri, his erection pressing against Yuuri's softening cock. Yuuri was trembling, legs finally breaking, as he sank into Victor's arms.

They kissed, Yuuri as malleable as honey as he collapsed into Victor's arms. He was murmuring something in Japanese, snatches Victor couldn't catch. He leaned closer, smiling as he caught the gist.

“And I you,” Victor replied in Russian, pressing soft kisses against Yuuri's cheek, his eyelids, trying to show Yuuri how precious he was to Victor.

He turned off the water and Yuuri started at the sudden shift. He opened his eyes again, yawning soon followed. He looked down, at Victor's erection pressed against his belly and a moment of panic crossed his face.

“In the morning,” Victor said, sweeping Yuuri into his arms and walking the short distance from the shower to the bed. He placed Yuuri on the bed, only grunting once. Maybe he needed to reconsider some of the beer he had been drinking of late… he might not be a professional skater anymore but Victor still had standards for himself.

He returned to the bathroom, swiping two towels and then went back to Yuuri.

Yuuri was sprawled on the bed, legs wide, flesh goose bumping under the hotel's air conditioning. Victor dried him gently, down his arms, across his chest, down his thighs, curved around his calves. He kissed Yuuri's flesh when it was dry, the swell of his ribcage, the jut of his hip, the bend of his knee. Yuuri was almost asleep when he was done, watching Victor through sleep misted eyes.

“Victor,” he murmured, reaching out, his hand missing Victor's cock completely, grasping only air.

“In the morning,” Victor repeated, catching Yuuri's hand and kissing his fingertips, his knuckles, until Yuuri's eyes had slipped shut. He pulled the blanket over Yuuri, brushing Yuuri's hair out of his eyes.

Victor sighed, rocked back on his heels and eyed his cock.

“Patient,” he said, “We've waited long enough, haven't we?”


End file.
